


More Stories of Thedas

by alexxwritesfic



Series: Stories of Thedas [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Puns, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxwritesfic/pseuds/alexxwritesfic
Summary: Stories inspired by Stories of Thedas vol. 2 prompts onTwitter
Relationships: Blackwall | Thom Rainer/Female Cadash, Carver Hawke/Original Male Character(s), Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Original Male Character(s), Female Aeducan/Alistair (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus/Solas
Series: Stories of Thedas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188593
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Campfire

Leliana had spent the evening telling stories, with everyone gathered around the campfire to listen to her. Well, nearly everyone - Morrigan had stood a little further back, as though uncertain if she wished to join in, but when Leliana started to tell a story about the Maker, Morrigan decided to sit by herself instead. Astyth didn’t mind, though; Morrigan’s presence would have just spoiled the pleasant mood.

Leliana certainly had a way with words. Even when she was telling stories of horrific battles filled with death and gore, she somehow made them sound so beautiful. Astyth could listen to her tales for hours. The others didn’t seem to feel that way, though. As much as they enjoyed listening to Leliana talk, they all had other things they would rather get on with, and one by one they left the circle around the campfire to get on with their own stuff, until only Astyth and Leliana were left.

Leliana smiled at Astyth and moved to stand up also, but before she could, Astyth said, 'Can you tell me more about the Maker?'

'Of course,' Leliana said as her face lit up with excitement at being asked about her favourite topic, 'what would you like to know?'

'The Chantry says the Maker abandoned us, so… what's the point of the Chantry? Why worship an absent god?'

'Well, the Chantry believes that one day He will come back to us,' Leliana explained, 'when the Chant of Light is-'

'But why would you want that?' Astyth asked. She didn't mean to interrupt, and she certainly didn't want to be rude. She genuinely wanted to understand. 'He abandoned us. Why would we want Him back?'

Leliana didn't answer right away. Instead, she considered Astyth for a while, head tilted in thought. Eventually, she asked, 'Do you believe in the Maker?'

'I don't know,' Astyth admitted, 'I want to. I want to believe there's something out there, something bigger than us, but… I don't know. The Chantry's idea of the Maker is nice in theory, but I don't know if that's a god I want to worship.' The closest thing dwarves had to a god was the Stone, but since her exile and coming to the surface, Astyth didn't feel a connection with her anymore. She supposed she just wanted _something_ to believe in.

Leliana nodded. 'I can understand that. The Maker asks a lot of us sometimes, and His intentions are not always clear to us.'

'But the dream you had - the vision - you think that was the Maker?' Astyth asked. 'That means the Maker hasn't left us, right?'

'That's what I believe.'

She hummed in thought. 'You know, I think I like your idea of the Maker more than the Chantry's.'

Leliana smiled. 'So do I.' After a pause, she said, 'Alistair is nice.'

'Annoyingly nice,' Astyth agreed.

'Oh? Last time I saw you two talking, you certainly didn't look annoyed,' Leliana said, a small smirk spreading across her face. 'You like him, don't you?'

'No,' Astyth said immediately, 'he's just… different to other humans. Talking to him is refreshing.' When she'd first met Alistair, she hadn’t been on the surface long, but she already hated it. In Orzammar, she was used to being treated differently for being nobility; that was expected. What she hadn't expected was to come to the surface and be treated differently simply for being a dwarf. She couldn't understand why so many people insisted on pointing out that she was a dwarf, as if she had somehow lived for twenty one years without being aware of that.

And then there was Alistair. Alistair, who in their first meeting asked her if she was a mage, as if the fact that she was a dwarf hadn’t even occurred to him. Even now, he continued to treat her with the same level of respect and kindness he would treat a human with. It was strange, but she liked it.

Astyth yawned and stood up. 'We should try to get some sleep,' she said, 'we need to get up early tomorrow.' She reached the entrance to her tent and paused, turning back to Leliana. 'Thank you, by the way. You've given me a lot to think about.'

Leliana nodded. 'Of course, any time.'

With that, Astyth turned and entered her tent, leaving Leliana to sit by the campfire alone.


	2. Shiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athran gives Hannah a ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small thing with Athran and his ex, set about 6 years before DAI.

Athran knew he was taking a big risk meeting up with Hannah. The more they met up, the higher the chance of them being found out, and that wouldn’t end well for either of them. Even knowing that, though, he couldn’t keep away. How could he? He loved her; he was ready to risk everything for her.

Almost exactly halfway between the Dalish camp and Hannah’s town, there was a small clearing in the woods where they would meet. The chances of anyone finding them there were low, but not impossible. When his siblings had found out what he was doing, he’d begged them not to say anything; they’d agreed to keep quiet as long as he stayed out of trouble, and would do their best to divert anyone who might be heading towards him. That still didn’t mean they were completely safe but, well, the risk just added to the fun.

When he arrived in the clearing, Hannah was already there, sitting on the grass. She looked up at the sound of footsteps and, seeing that it was Athran, pushed herself to her feet and ran to him, before jumping into his arms.

Athran was used to her doing this and caught her easily, laughing. ‘Well, hello to you too.’

‘Missed you,’ she said, and kissed him.

‘You literally saw me yesterday,’ he said, before adding, ‘I missed you too.’

Athran lowered Hannah down to the ground and said, ‘I got you something.’ He reached into his pocket to retrieve a silver ring with a small red gem on it. The red matched the colour of his hair, a small detail he knew she would appreciate. It was why he’d bought it; he wanted to give her something that would remind her of him whenever they couldn’t see each other for a while.

Her eyes widened. ‘Oh- this is-’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not proposing!’ he said quickly, laughing at the relief on her face as he said it, ‘I just thought you’d like it.’

Hannah laughed too, taking the ring from him and sliding it onto the fourth finger of her right hand. 'It’s very shiny,' she observed, holding her hand up so the gem caught the sunlight. ‘I feel like I could blind someone with this.’

‘I guess it is,’ Athran said, trying to act casual, as if he hadn't just spent the last hour polishing the ring until he could clearly see his reflection. He wanted it to be perfect for her.

She smiled at him. ‘I love it. I love  _ you _ . Thank you.’

'I love you too,' he said. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of saying that, just as he never grew tired of hearing her say it to him.

Hannah looked at her hand again, admiring the ring. 'Did your father make it?'

Athran had to stop himself from laughing. 'Can you really imagine me asking him to make a ring for my secret human lover? No, I got it from a market earlier and thought of you as soon as I saw it.'

‘Oh,’ she said, frowning slightly. She seemed a little disappointed, perhaps hoping he’d finally told his clan about her - not that she could really complain about that when she also hadn’t told her family about him - but then she shook her head and smiled again. ‘Well, either way, it’s beautiful, and it means a lot that you got it for me.’

Athran smiled and kissed her again. 'I love you,' he said, resting their foreheads together, 'I just want to make you happy.'

'You do make me happy,' Hannah promised, 'but I really should be going. I promised my father I’d help with the bakery later and he’ll be wondering where I am.’

Athran sighed, frustrated that they didn’t get to spend more time together, but he understood. Hannah insisted that her father was nice, but he was also very strict, and he wouldn’t be happy to know she’d been sneaking out - especially to meet an elf. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then?’ he asked.

‘Of course.’ Hannah took the ring off and put it in her pocket. ‘Can’t risk my father seeing it and asking questions,’ she explained in response to Athran’s confused expression.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘yeah, that’s smart.’

‘I’ll wear it whenever I see you, though,’ she promised.

Athran sighed as he watched her walk away. He had no idea how this was supposed to work in the future; they couldn’t keep their relationship a secret forever, but they also couldn’t risk being discovered. It felt like they were stuck sometimes but he tried not to dwell on it. He was happy just spending time with her and showering her with gifts of jewellery; he didn't need anything more.


	3. Seducer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athran has an idea to stop Corypheus. Dorian greatly disapproves.

Athran knew that ever since they returned from the Arbor Wilds, he hadn't been himself. Dorian had noticed it, too, and was clearly worried about him, and that just made everything worse. The last thing he wanted was Dorian getting upset just because  _ he _ was upset.

'Tell me what's wrong,' Dorian said after a couple of days of watching Athran wander aimlessly around Skyhold, barely talking to anyone. 'I can't stand seeing you like this.'

Athran didn't want to talk about it, of course - he never wanted to talk about these things. But with Dorian looking at him like that, staring at him with those worried eyes, he knew he had to say something. 'I don't want to do this,' he said eventually, willing himself to not start crying, 'I don't want to be the Inquisitor anymore. I don't want to be the Herald for some fucking god I don't even believe in. I just want to go into the woods and lie on the ground and become one with the moss.'

Dorian wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that last statement, so he decided to focus on the first one. 'I know you don't want this, and I wish you didn't have to, but you're the one with the Anchor. You're the only one who can-'

'But I  _ can't, _ Dorian. I can't stop Corypheus.' All he had was a magical mark on his hand that he didn't even understand. How was he supposed to use that to defeat a being who could come back to life? 'And I don't think the size of our forces makes any difference. We could have the biggest army in Thedas and we still won't be able to beat him. We can't win this.'

'We can, and we will,' Dorian promised, although Athran wasn't sure he believed him. Dorian took his hand and squeezed it tight. 'We'll find a way.'

Athran bit his lip, thinking. Finally, he said, 'I could seduce him?'

Dorian blinked. 'Sorry, what? You… want to seduce  _ Corypheus _ ? Are we talking about the same Corypheus? You know, the giant, ancient darkspawn who's actively trying to kill us?'

'What, you don't think that's sexy?'

' _ Athran _ .'

Athran rolled his eyes. 'Look, it was just a suggestion. I'm not saying I  _ want _ to have sex with him. But I'm willing to do whatever I have to if it will help us win.'

'I genuinely can't tell if you're joking.'

'I'm not entirely sure, myself,' he admitted. When he'd said it, he'd intended it to be a joke, just something to lighten the mood, but it wasn't exactly the worst idea he'd had. He wasn't sure how it would work, though. The idea of seducing someone so that they let their guard down and he could go in for an easy kill was certainly appealing, but that wouldn't work for Corypheus - he would just come back again. Perhaps if the sex was good enough, Corypheus would simply abandon his plans? That seemed unlikely. Perhaps -

'Please stop thinking about it,' Dorian sighed. 'Amatus, you are not going to have sex with Corypheus.'

'Alright, alright,' Athran said, 'seducing Corypheus can be plan B.'

'I'd rather it wasn't a plan at all.'

He brought Dorian’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. 'I'm sorry.'

'We  _ will _ find a way to defeat him,' Dorian promised. 'If anything, I'm even more determined to kill him than I was before, just so you don't have to do that.'

Athran laughed. 'In that case, I'm glad I could help motivate you. Maybe I need to talk about fucking Corypheus more often.'

Dorian groaned. 'Please don't. That's an image I really don't want in my mind.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to formally apologise to Dorian Pavus for making him put up with this.


	4. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiera Hawke has a complicated relationship with magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiera is agender and uses they/them pronouns!!

Kiera often wondered if things would have been easier if their parents had just sent them to the Circle. They'd spent their entire life on the run, having to hide their magic, having to avoid doing anything fun because of the risk of being caught. At least in the Circle they wouldn't have to pretend to be something they weren't. They could just be a mage.

Their father had been in the Circle, though, and he'd left. Escaped. It wasn't a fate he wanted for his children; Kiera trusted his judgement, even if they disagreed with it.

They still remembered the day their magic came. Their mother had been terrified, and for years Kiera had thought she was afraid of them; it was only more recently they'd understood she was afraid  _ for _ them. The world wasn't kind to mages. Kiera's father had talked to them that night, explaining that magic was dangerous but he would teach them how to use it and control it. He also emphasised the need for secrecy. Until he was completely certain they could control their magic well enough to hide it, he didn't want them going out unless it was absolutely necessary. Their first priority had to always be their safety. Kiera was only a child, they didn't understand what was happening, but they could hear the urgency in their father's voice, and they promised to be good.

Just like that, their entire world changed overnight. Their whole life became dedicated to learning how to use and control their magic. Their father wanted to focus on defensive spells; putting up strong barriers as quickly as possible and casting a powerful mind blast. They learnt healing spells, too - they got to practise those a lot on Dorian when he would come home covered in cuts and bruises from whatever game he was playing (the games always seemed to result in him falling out of trees - Kiera didn't know why he didn't play something less dangerous, but they were grateful for the easy practice).

Then there was Bethany. When she first showed signs of magic, too, Kiera was relieved, in a way. It was selfish, but they were glad they were no longer alone; they had someone who would understand their struggle. Being able to help Bethany, to train with her and look after her, gave Kiera a sense of purpose. It wasn't easy, but they could learn a lot from each other and practise their magic together.

It was nice, and in a lot of ways it made things easier. But it made things harder, too. Before her magic, Bethany and Carver had been inseparable, but this had caused a rift between them that Kiera was never sure could fully heal. Carver still loved Bethany, but she was a mage; she couldn't play with him like she used to. For a while, Bethany was terrified of her own power (understandably, with the constant lectures about how dangerous magic could be) and Kiera was the only sibling she felt comfortable being around.

Kiera never understood Carver's resentment for his mage siblings. He hated that they spent so much more time with their father than he did, but he didn't understand that  _ he _ was the lucky one. He and Dorian got to live their lives, going out to play, making friends with other children without any risk. It was everything Kiera wanted, but it was the one thing they couldn't have.

It broke Kiera's heart. When they were younger, before Carver had learnt to be angry with the world, he and Kiera had been so close. He was their baby brother and they wanted to protect him. As he got older, though,  _ he _ wasn't the one who needed protecting. He spent his free time training with his sword and getting strong; he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Not that he ever got the chance - he and Dorian were also expected to stay out of trouble in case they drew unwanted attention to the family. Just one more thing to hate his siblings for.

He didn't hate them, though. Not really. Despite his anger, despite the way he would snap at them, as if them being a mage was somehow a personal attack against him, Kiera knew that he would willingly fist-fight a templar if it would keep them safe. He probably didn't think they noticed, but they saw the way his posture would change, getting ready for a fight, if anyone gave them a strange look. Kiera heard the tone of his voice change, getting defensive, ready to shut people up if they started asking too many questions. He clearly cared, even if he didn’t directly show it.

Still, Kiera was sure it would have been so much easier if they'd just gone to the Circle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Dorian" I'm referring to here is my other Hawke, not Dorian Pavus. In case that wasn't clear LMAO


	5. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brennus and Carver go on a date. Sort of.

'I was wondering if you wanted to come and see a play with me,' Carver said.

'A play?'

Caver nodded. 'It's about the Hero of Ferelden, about how he stopped the Blight. I thought you might find it interesting, seeing as you met him during the Blight.' Before Brennus could reply, he continued, 'You know what, it's probably not even a good play. Don't feel like you have to waste your time with-'

'I'd love to,' Brennus said before Carver could talk himself out of it any further, 'it sounds like fun.'

'Great!' Carver said with a bright smile, 'It's a date.' His eyes immediately widened. 'Not a- I didn't mean a  _ date _ . Obviously. Just... well. You know.'

'Right,' Brennus said, 'of course.'  _ Of course _ . 'Should I ask Taven if he wants to come? He'd probably be interested.'

Carver hesitated before saying, 'I was actually kind of hoping it would just be the two of us. If that's alright.'

'Oh, okay, we can do that,' Brennus agreed with a smile. He wasn't even sure why he'd suggested bringing Taven along when he finally had the opportunity to spend time with Carver alone. Not that it mattered; Carver had made it clear enough that this was  _ not _ a date.

***

The play was… not completely terrible. The Patrick Cousland on the stage was almost nothing like the Patrick Cousland Brennus had met. Instead, he was kind, he listened to people, he actually cared about their problems. Brennus understood that they wanted to paint him as a hero, but there were only so many inaccuracies he could take before it got ridiculous.

Still, it was fun. It was nice to get away from the responsibilities of being a Warden for a while and just be a normal part of society like everyone else. Carver enjoyed the play, at least, and Brennus supposed that was what mattered.

Brennus was just about to suggest they start making their way back when Carver said, 'There's a tavern not far from here. Do you want to get drinks?'

‘Okay,’ Brennus said with a smile, letting Carver lead the way.

The tavern was packed, full of people who had just seen the play. After a bit of searching and tripping over people’s belongings, they managed to find a table on the other side of the tavern. Brennus sat at the table to stop anyone else from taking it while Carver went to get drinks. He tried very hard to not look at the table next to him, where a couple had decided to ignore their drinks in favour of shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. It wasn’t exactly fun to watch.

It didn’t take long before Carver returned with the drinks, putting them on the table before sitting down. He glanced at the couple next to them and raised his eyebrows. ‘Looks like they’re having fun,’ he said.

Brennus nodded, wondering what it would be like to kiss Carver like that. He’d thought about kissing Carver before, of course - he spent an embarrassing amount of his free time thinking about that - but in his imagination it was always just small and soft pecks on the lips, not… whatever that couple were doing. They seemed to be enjoying themselves though, so perhaps it was worth thinking about. He wondered how soft Caver’s lips would be, what his tongue would taste like, what it would be like to have their bodies pressed so close together.

He hadn't even realised he'd been staring until Carver asked, 'What is it? Is there something on my face?'

'Oh! No, no,' Brennus said, quickly looking at the table instead. 'I was just...' he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ he said, ‘just a bit tired.’

Carver nodded. ‘Alright. We’ll just stay for one drink and then we’ll go.’

***

By the time they got back to the Warden stronghold, Brennus really was tired, and he was looking forward to getting into bed. Carver, however, was walking slowly, apparently lost in thought. Brennus couldn’t complain, though; more time with Carver was never a bad thing.

Eventually, they reached the room that Brennus shared with Taven and Carver stopped walking, turning to him with a small frown on his face.

‘Are you alright?’ Brennus asked.

Carver didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned towards him, close enough that Brennus could feel his breath, warm on his skin. He raised his hand to Brennus’s face, gently tracing his thumb over the scar on his left cheek. Brennus stood completely still, his heart racing, as Carver’s hand then moved down to his mouth; his thumb barely touched Brennus’s lips before he suddenly dropped his hand and stood up straight, as if snapping out of a trance. ‘Well, goodnight,’ he said.

By the time Brennus had processed the words, Caver was already walking away. ‘Right,’ he muttered to himself, ‘goodnight.’

'Where have you been?' Taven asked when Brennus walked into the room.

'I was out with Carver,' Brennus said. 'We went to see a play and then had a few drinks.' He bit his lip, suddenly feeling guilty. 'I'm sorry we didn't invite you. I did offer, but he said he wanted it to just be the two of us.'

'Brennus... you do realise you just went on a date with him, don't you?'

'No, no, he specifically said it  _ wasn't _ a date.'

Taven groaned. 'That's because he's just as bad at this as you are.'

Brennus shook his head. 'We're just friends, he's made that pretty clear.'

'Maker, kill me now,' Taven said, hitting his head against the table. 'Will you  _ please _ kiss him already and put me out of my misery?'

Brennus sighed, shaking his head. ‘Unfortunately, I think I might have just missed my chance.’

‘What?’

‘There was a moment, just now, when I thought he was going to kiss me but I guess he changed his mind.’ He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done something wrong, that he’d done something to make Carver think that kissing him would be a terrible idea. He tried not to dwell on it; it would just hurt him.

Taven took a deep breath. ‘You’re telling me,’ he said slowly, ‘that you had the opportunity to kiss the guy you’ve been crushing on for almost two years, and you  _ didn’t _ kiss him?’ He looked like he was in genuine pain. ‘Brennus, listen to me, if you get another moment like that, just do it. Just kiss him. Do it as a favour to me, to save my sanity, I am  _ begging _ you.’

If Taven didn’t seem so earnest, Brennus would have laughed. Instead, he just sighed and nodded. ‘Alright. I will.’


	6. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selana just wants to go for a nice calming walk, but it's Thedas, so of course it doesn't stay calm for long.

Selana tried to focus on breathing. She had just wanted to go for a calming walk after a hectic day, but… well, the situation she now found herself in was far from calming. She should have expected it, really; this was Thedas, after all.

There was fire everywhere, and people were screaming, and the ground was covered in blood and corpses. The few survivors were injured or dying; just at a glance she already knew most of them wouldn't make it. Even if she was able to get close enough to them for a healing spell or potion, she would most likely only be able to ease their pain before they died.

Oh, and a new rift had opened with demons pouring out of it. Because, of course, nothing could be simple.

She wasn't sure what had caused the explosion, but that didn't matter. It had knocked her to the ground and by the time she'd scrambled to her feet, gripping her staff, everything was a mess. Right now, she had to focus on staying alive. Not that that was an easy task, with two demons coming straight towards her.

It was hard to stay calm. It would do no good for the people to see the Inquisitor panicking because of a couple of demons, but she wasn't prepared for this. She wasn’t used to doing the fighting herself, preferring to stay back and focus on defensive spells to protect the party members who were fighting.

Selana suddenly remembered something Solas had said to Blackwall the other day in a conversation about fighting demons: 'Survive the first thirty heartbeats, and you have already won.' She was pretty sure her heart was beating too fast for that to really be accurate, but it was still good advice. She just had to survive long enough to find the demons' weaknesses.

She tightened her grip on her staff and took a few steps back, trying to distance herself from the demons while she watched them. The rage demon on the left moved slowly, but every so often it would lunge forwards, closing the gap between them. Selana sent a Winter’s Grasp at it, freezing it in place for a few seconds; long enough to watch the shade. That one would be easier to kill, at least - she’d taken down plenty of shades on her own before.

She took another step back and managed to catch herself just before she tripped over a burning log, which only served to further increase her heart rate. She managed to shoot a couple of spells at the shade, but it wasn’t enough to kill it before the rage demon broke out of its ice prison.

If there had been room to manoeuvre, that wouldn’t have been a problem, but Selana was quickly realising she was trapped. The demons were approaching her front, and behind her everything was on fire. She wouldn’t manage to move too far to the sides, either, before the demons would cut her off.  _ So much for surviving thirty heartbeats _ , she thought. How embarrassing, the incredible leader of the Inquisition, the Herald of Andraste, the saviour of all of Thedas, cut down by a couple of basic demons.

Solas’s advice was great, in theory, but it would have been much easier to follow if she wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack. Unsure what to do, she sent another Winter’s Grasp at the rage demon, but this time it wasn’t powerful enough to freeze it in place. She could feel the heat of the flames on her back, and forced herself to step forwards, towards the demons, to avoid being burnt alive.

The shade was almost close enough to hit her, and she threw a barrier up to protect herself. As it turned out, she didn’t need to, because at that moment, a volley of arrows shot through what she supposed was its chest, killing it instantly.

She glanced up, and there was her brother, Athran. He waved at her before nocking another arrow in his bow. ‘I couldn’t let you have all the fun!’ he said as he fired it at the rage demon.

Selana laughed. Of course Athran would see chaos and come running; he thrived on it. She was grateful for his help, though. The arrow was enough to distract the demon and she took a few steps to the side, away from it. She fired a mix of spells at it, and, combined with Athran’s arrows, it didn’t take long for the demon to fall.

‘Well, that was fun,’ Athran said, joining her, ‘what the fuck happened?’

Selana shook her head. ‘I have no idea. I just wanted to go for a walk but apparently I can’t do one nice thing for myself without everything descending into chaos.’

‘This is Thedas,’ Athran reminded her, ‘literally everything is always going to shit. Are you hurt?'

'I'm fine,' Selana said, and then she sighed. 'I think I need a long bath. And maybe a new job.'

'Oh, no, no, no,' Athran said quickly, 'you're not allowed to quit. Josephine might try to make  _ me _ Inquisitor instead, and then we really will be doomed. You're the Inquisitor, not the In _ quit _ sitor.'

Selana stared at him for a couple of seconds and then just sighed, shaking her head. 'I promise not to quit if you promise to never say Inquitsitor again.'

'Deal,' he agreed, 'that really wasn't one of my best.'

She laughed and turned to walk back to Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, even in my canon world state where Selana is Inquisitor, Athran is still there. He's just kind of vibing at Skyhold most of the time


	7. Crafting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his brother's death, Athran asks his father to make him a new bow. The conversation doesn't go well.

Athran took a deep breath, trying to get the courage to talk to his father. His father was the clan’s craftmaster, which was usually a good thing, but right now he wished it was someone he wasn’t related to.

When he was a child, his father had tried to teach him how to craft things, but Athran had always found it boring so he’d never listened. He was regretting that now, though; if he was able to just craft things for himself he could avoid what he was sure was about to be a horrible conversation.

There wasn’t any point in delaying it further, though. He approached his father, head held high, and said, ‘I need a new bow.’

His father raised an eyebrow. ‘What happened to your last one?’

‘I lost it,’ Athran said, ‘I, uh, dropped it. When Darinel died.’

He saw his father’s grip on the wood tighten. Athran knew the clan blamed him for his brother’s death. They didn’t even try to hide it, some of them even going as far as to directly tell him it was his fault. His father was one of the few who hadn’t said anything, but Athran knew he felt the same way. 'You can make one yourself,' he said after a few seconds.

Athran frowned. 'I don't know how.'

'We'll, if you ever paid attention to my lessons, you would know.'

'If your lessons were actually interesting, I'd pay attention,' Athran said before he could stop himself. His father scowled and he sighed. ' _ Please _ can I have a new bow?'

'No.'

'But-'

'You lost the last one I made you,' his father said, 'why should I go through the effort of making another one when you clearly can't be trusted?'

Athran understood that his father was angry, but this was ridiculous. 'Okay, sure,' he said, 'I guess I just won't go hunting and we'll all starve to death. Is that what you want?'

'What I  _ want _ is for no more of my children to die, and that's exactly what will happen if you go into those woods again.' There was genuine fear in his voice, and that took Athran by surprise. Then, just like that, the concern was gone and his face returned to its usual stern expression. 'We'll send others out to hunt.'

'But I'm the best hunter we've got.'

'We need someone more responsible.'

‘I am responsible!’ Athran protested, ‘If you just give me a bow, I can prove it.’

‘You proved that you’re  _ not _ responsible when you ran off and let Darinel die!’ his father snapped. His eyes immediately widened. ‘I didn’t mean-’

‘I know exactly what you meant,’ Athran said. The words hardly even hurt him by this point; no one could say anything to him that he hadn’t already said to himself.

His father sighed. ‘I’ll make you a new bow.’ Athran would have preferred it if he wasn’t making the bow out of guilt for what he’d said, but he wasn’t going to complain - at least he was getting a bow. He stepped back and watched as his father got to work.


	8. Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astyth steals Blackwall's shirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in an AU world state where Astyth becomes the Inquisitor (as well as the Hero of Ferelden because she can't catch a break) and ends up with Blackwall

Astyth couldn’t help but laugh when she looked at herself in the mirror. The sleeves of the shirt had completely engulfed her arms and the bottom of it came down to her knees. She wasn’t surprised: the shirt would have probably been ridiculously large on another human, so on a dwarf it was absolutely massive. Not that she minded, though; the shirt smelled like Blackwall, which meant it smelled like comfort. Like home.

‘Is that my shirt?’ Blackwall asked when he walked into the bedroom, even though, of course, he knew it was.

Astyth turned to look at him and grinned. ‘It is, but I think it looks better on me.’

Blackwall chuckled. ‘I can barely even see you.’

Astyth suddenly felt a little silly with Blackwall laughing at her, which was ridiculous, really, considering the whole reason she'd put the shirt on was to make him laugh.

She started to take it off, but he said, 'You know what? You should keep it. It does look better on you.'

She wasn't sure if that was true, but she was glad he said it because the shirt really was comfortable. 'That's a dangerous thing to say,' she told him, 'I'm going to end up stealing all your clothes.'

He laughed. 'It sounds like you just want to see me naked.'

‘Now there’s an idea,’ she said, ‘you walking around Skyhold with no clothes on. Surely you’ve got enough body hair to keep you warm?’

‘Maybe if I show up like that to fight Corypheus it will scare him away.’

‘Exactly! You have to stop wearing clothes for the good of Thedas.’

He kissed her before he started undressing. ‘Who am I to say no to the Herald of Andraste herself?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well aware that this is the second piece I've written involving the idea of Corypheus seeing characters naked. I have decided to not analyse what that says about me.


	9. Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a post-Trespasser AU where Solas is somehow convinced to come back, Athran can't resist making a few jokes about his identity.

Things had been tense since Solas returned, especially between him and Dorian. Athran, however, had been content to ignore all of the tension and pretend everything was back to normal. Even so, he thought as the three of them sat at a table to eat dinner, it was hard to ignore the fact that the Dread Wolf himself was sitting next to him.

He tried to keep the conversation light, but Dorian wasn’t interested in talking, still not happy that Solas was even there. Eventually, Athran stopped trying, and they ate in awkward silence.

Solas was the first to finish eating, and Athran had to fight to suppress a grin. ‘Wow, Solas, you must have been really hungry,’ he said.

‘I was,’ Solas said, narrowing his eyes slightly as he tried to figure out why Athran looked like he was trying not to laugh. He didn’t think he’d done anything amusing just by eating dinner.

Athran nodded. ‘Yeah, I thought so. You really... _wolfed_ that down.’ His shoulders shook as he tried to contain his laughter.

Solas stared at him for a few seconds with a straight face before sighing. ‘You’re going to keep making wolf puns forever, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, come on, it’s funny!’ Athran said. ‘Wait, no, it’s- it’s-’ he pounded his fist on the table, unable to finish his sentence because he was laughing so hard. Eventually, he managed to calm down enough, wiping the tears from his eyes and saying, ‘it’s _howl-_ arious,’ which just sent him laughing even harder.

Dorian groaned. ‘You know, Solas, suddenly this plan of yours to destroy the world doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.’

‘You married him,’ Solas pointed out, ‘you knew what you were getting yourself into.’

‘Howl-arious,’ Athran said again, still giggling to himself. At least he’d succeeded in getting Solas and Dorian to finally talk to each other.


	10. Hot Beverage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Athran really doesn't like coffee

‘Having fun?’ Dorian asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Athran tore his eyes away from the paper scattered all over the desk and sighed. ‘I hate paperwork.’

‘Well, maybe if you didn’t leave it all until the last minute, it wouldn’t be so bad.’

Athran frowned. ‘Now you sound like Josephine,’ he said, before doing a rather inaccurate impression of an Antivan accent.  _ ‘Oh, Athran, I must have those reports back by tomorrow. You really need to keep on top of the paperwork.’ _

Dorian laughed, shaking his head. ‘That sounded nothing like her.’

‘I’m glad you’re finding this so funny.’ He sighed as he looked at the paperwork again. ‘At this rate I’m going to be up all night.’

Dorian walked over to him and kissed the top of his head. ‘You can do it,’ he promised, ‘do you want me to bring you coffee?’

Athran pulled a face. ‘Definitely not. Josephine gave me some earlier and I could only manage a sip,’ he said, gesturing to the cup balanced precariously at the edge of the desk, still full of coffee.

‘Understandable; that was  _ Antivan _ coffee,’ Dorian said, picking up the cup and sniffing the contents before shaking his head. ‘You need  _ Tevinter  _ coffee. It’s much nicer, and it’ll keep you awake for hours.’

Athran wasn’t so sure, but he supposed at this point, anything was worth a try. ‘Alright. I’m trusting you not to poison me.’

By the time Dorian returned with a new cup of coffee, Athran had made very little progress. The more he read, the less he could focus, and the more appealing his bed became. He really hoped the new coffee would wake him up like Dorian promised.

Dorian handed him the cup, watching him expectantly, and Athran took a hesitant sip. He immediately spat it back into the cup. ‘That’s even worse than the Antivan one.’

Dorian gasped, snatching the cup back defensively, as if it was a hurt child. ‘You barely even tried it!’

‘I tried enough, and I am not drinking that,’ Athran said, trying very hard not to laugh at Dorian’s expression. ‘Come on, stop acting so wounded. Solas was much worse when you offered him tea.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Dorian said with a shudder, ‘I’ve never felt so insulted.’ He looked over Athran’s shoulder to study the papers on the desk. ‘You know, there really isn’t that much for you to do,’ he said, ‘it’s mostly just reading.’

‘I know, but that takes  _ forever _ ,’ Athran complained.

‘What if I read the reports to you?’

‘You’d do that?’

‘Of course,’ Dorian said, kissing the top of his head again. ‘It’s better than seeing you get stressed about it, and this way you might actually get a few hours of sleep.’

‘You’re the best,’ Athran said, leaning up to kiss him properly.

Dorian grinned at him. ‘I know,’ he said. He picked up the first report and started to read, his free hand absently stroking through Athran’s hair.


	11. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anatole finally gets the courage to kiss Krem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is somewhat a continuation from day 16 of Stories of Thedas volume 1, which can be read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484454/chapters/70612149) (basically: after Corypheus is defeated Anatole returns to Orlais and realises he hates it because all he really wants is to be with Krem)

As he approached Skyhold, Anatole realised he didn't have a plan. He'd had plenty of time to think of one on the way back from Orlais, but his thoughts had never been more disorganised. He had no idea what he was going to say, what he was going to do… for all he knew, he might have been too late.

He didn't even stop to fix his appearance as he ran towards the tavern, silently praying that he looked at least somewhat decent.

Without any further thought, he pushed open the tavern door, letting it swing open and slam against the wall. Everyone turned to stare at him but he couldn't bring himself to care, because sitting in a corner of the tavern were the Bull’s Chargers. Relief washed over him: they were still there. He’d worried that they might have left Skyhold already, but apparently not everyone was as eager to leave as he had been.

Anatole walked over to their table and collapsed into an empty chair. They all looked surprised to see him, but he was only focused on Krem, who said, 'I thought you went back to Val Firmin.'

Anatole held up a hand, too busy trying to get his breath back to be able to speak.

Krem seemed bemused. 'I’m starting to think you ran all the way here from Orlais.'

Anatole shook his head. 'Just… across Skyhold,' he gasped, 'I'm really… not used to running.'

The Iron Bull laughed at that and leaned back in his chair to signal to the bartender to bring more drinks to the table.

‘So why  _ are _ you here?’ Skinner asked. She didn’t look happy to see him, but he’d learnt not to take that personally; she seemed to be that way with everyone.

Anatole glanced at Krem, suddenly feeling a little silly. He’d come all this way, and for what? He had got his breath back enough to speak by now, but he realised he had no idea what to say. Luckily, at that moment, the drinks arrived, and the Chargers were too distracted by the alcohol to realise that Anatole hadn’t answered the question.

Anatole wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to the taste of Fereldan ale. The first time he’d tried it, he was almost sick, but he was glad to know he was finally able to drink it without gagging, even if it was still disgusting. He only managed two drinks before he had to stop, though. He’d hoped the ale would calm his nerves, but it was only making him feel worse. ‘I need some air,’ he muttered before standing up and walking out of the tavern as quickly as he could.

The fresh air helped a bit, and he leaned against the wall as he took deep breaths. This was ridiculous, he told himself, he’d never felt anything like this before. He’d spent his entire life learning to be calm in any situation, to not let his feelings get the best of him. How could he lose all of that so quickly?

‘Anatole?’ He jumped at the sound of Krem’s voice. Krem joined him against the wall. ‘Feeling any better?’

He nodded. Krem was looking at him with such genuine concern in his eyes, and that just made him feel bad for worrying him. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, ‘it’s been a long week.’

Krem nodded. ‘You never did say what you were doing here.’

'No, I didn't,' Anatole said, feeling the panic rising in his chest again. He couldn't do this. It was a stupid idea, coming back to Skyhold without a plan and without a clue how any of this was supposed to work.

‘Is everything okay?’ Krem asked, the concern in his eyes again, ‘If something’s happened and you’re in trouble, I’m sure the Chargers would be happy to-’

Anatole took a deep breath, grabbed Krem by the shoulders, and kissed him.

The kiss was over just as quickly as it began, leaving Krem just staring at him.

‘Sorry,’ Anatole said.

‘Anatole,’ Krem said slowly, ‘did you come here all the way from Orlais just to kiss me?’

‘I… yes. Yes, I did.’

Krem stifled a laugh. ‘I’m not complaining, but… why didn’t you do that  _ before _ you left?’

‘I didn’t realise how I felt until I got home,’ Anatole admitted, feeling more and more ridiculous by the second. He had been fine until he’d arrived in Val Royeaux to meet Gaspard and realised there was something he was missing - some _ one _ he was missing. ‘I’m not good at this…  _ feelings _ thing.’

‘No kidding.’ The concern was gone from Krem’s eyes, replaced with amusement. ‘You looked like you were about to be sick.’

‘I blame that on the ale.’

Krem laughed, shaking his head, and pulled Anatole in for another kiss.


	12. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon leaving Kirkwall, Kiera and Isabela decide where to go next.

Isabela took a deep breath as she stepped onto the ship. 'Ah, I've missed this,' she said.

Kiera took a deep breath too, but they failed to see how the air at the docks was any different to the rest of Kirkwall. Perhaps it was just symbolic. Either way, it was clearly important to Isabela, so Kiera kept their thoughts to themself.

'So, what's the plan?' Kiera asked after Isabela had had a few moments to get reacquainted with the ship.

'Who says we need a plan?' Isabela took their hand. 'We can go wherever we want. We can  _ do  _ whatever we want. There are no rules here.'

'What, we'll just sail aimlessly?' They supposed that might be fun, but Kiera wasn't sure if they were suited for a life with so little structure.

Isabela grinned. 'We could… or we could make it more fun.' With that, she pulled on Kiera's hand and led them down to the captain's cabin. To Kiera's surprise, she didn't immediately start undressing. Instead, she pointed to a map of Thedas. 'Close your eyes and touch the map. Wherever your finger lands is where we'll go.'

Kiera nodded and closed their eyes before pressing their finger against the map. Isabela started laughing and Kiera expected that they had landed in the middle of the sea, or off the map completely. What they saw when they opened their eyes was much funnier: of all the places in Thedas, Kiera's finger had landed on Kirkwall.

'Brilliant,' Isabela said, still laughing.

'I'm starting to think the Maker just doesn't want you to leave,' Kiera said as they closed their eyes to try again.

This time, their finger landed in the middle of the sea, somewhere in the Amaranthine Ocean.

'Well,' Isabela said, 'it's got to be better than Kirkwall. Come on, let's set sail.'

Kiera struggled to understand how Isabela was so excited about it. 'What exactly will we do when we get there?' they asked, 'It's not like we can dock there.'

'Stop overthinking it,' Isabela told them, 'this is part of the fun. When we get there, I'll pick somewhere new and hope I have better luck than you.'

'Are you usually lucky?'

'I found you, didn't I?' she said, kissing their cheek. 'I'd say that's pretty lucky.'


	13. Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the post-Trespasser AU, Athran, Dorian, and Solas end up adopting a son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the post-Trespasser AU from 'Wolf'? This is more of that! I originally started writing this AU ages ago and it was where pretty much everything about Athran came into place. This AU helped me figure out him being with both Dorian and Solas, his best friend being Cassandra, his love for terrible puns... so it means a lot to me and I've been excited to share it!! This is a very abridged version of just a small part of the AU

Athran had never really expected to have kids. He’d thought about it before, and decided it was something he would quite like, but Dorian had always seemed unsure, and with Dorian back in Tevinter it was difficult to figure out how something like that would even work.

Then Solas had come back, and all thoughts of starting a family had been forgotten. All of Athran’s energy was focused on showing Solas that there was another way, that there were plenty of reasons to stay and help this world. The fact that he and Dorian were apparently not good enough reasons for Solas to say hurt him more than he could ever say, but he’d trained himself to simply not think about that. Solas was with him again now, and that was what mattered.

The baby had been a surprise. They’d come across it by accident; a human boy, only a few months old, abandoned and crying with no sign of his family in sight. Athran insisted on taking him back to Skyhold, not comfortable with just leaving him there where he’d most likely die. Solas agreed; they would take care of him for a few days while they figured out what to do with him.

Athran very quickly learnt that he knew absolutely nothing about how to care for a baby. 

'It's crying again,' he said, handing the baby to Solas.

'What do you want me to do about it?'

'I don't know, fix it!'

Solas sighed as he took the baby and started to gently bounce him in his arms. Luckily, that was the right thing to do, and the baby soon calmed down before falling asleep in Solas’s arms.

'You're really good at this,' Athran said softly.

Solas smiled. 'I'm sure you would be, too, if you stopped giving him to me every time he cried.'

***

As soon as Dorian learnt about the child, he dropped everything to come and visit. He couldn't stay for long - far too much to do in Tevinter - but he wanted to meet the child who had captured Athran's heart.

'He's sweet, isn't he?' Athran said, as they looked at the sleeping boy. Athran had written to Blackwall - he never had got used to calling him Thom - to ask if he could make a cot for the boy, and he hoped he wouldn't be waiting too much longer for a reply. For now, the baby was sleeping on top of a large pile of blankets. Athran was actually a little jealous of how comfortable it looked.

'He is,' Dorian agreed. He glanced at Athran, noting the pure adoration in his eyes as he watched the sleeping child, and sighed. 'You want to keep him, don't you?'

Athran hesitated before nodding. 'I know when we've talked about it before you've been unsure, but-'

Dorian took his hand. 'It's okay,' he said, 'it's… not exactly how I imagined us having a child, but I don't see why not. You'll be a wonderful father.'

Athran wasn't sure how true that was, but he grinned. 'So will you. We'll have to figure out some way for you to see him in Tevinter… I can’t wait to tell Solas.’

Solas was even more excited about it than Athran had expected. They’d talked about the possibility of keeping the child, but neither of them had truly expected it to happen; they had been too unsure of how Dorian would react to the idea.

Later that day, Solas, Athran, and Dorian sat on the bed, Athran holding the baby, as they tried to come up with a name for him.

'How about Wolfgang?' Athran said, grinning. He nudged Solas with his elbow. 'Get it? Because you're the Dread Wolf?  _ Wolf _ gang?'

Solas sighed. 'Yes, Vhenan, I get it. Perhaps we should come up with a name that isn't a pun.'

'Boring,' Athran muttered.

'We could name him after your brother,' Dorian suggested.

'That's not a bad idea,' Solas agreed.

'Darinel,' Athran said quietly, looking down at the baby. The baby, of course, didn't care for the conversation at all and was content to reach up and pull Athran’s hair. He supposed it would be nice to name him after his brother; it would be nice to create new memories with that name. He nodded. 'I like that.'

Less than a week later, Blackwall was there, working hard on building a good cot for Darinel. Athran kept trying to come up with a way to pay him but he refused everything - he owed Athran his life, after all.

It didn't take long for the cot to be finished, and Blackwall also made a small wooden griffon for Darinel to play with. It was sweet, and an unexpected gift. Athran couldn't thank him enough, even though Blackwall insisted it was no problem.

Cassandra came to visit, too, no doubt eager to get away from her duties as Divine for a while. Athran was so excited for her to meet Darinel, but he hadn't been prepared for just how awkward she would be. It was reassuring to know there was someone more clueless about kids than he was.

'Do you want to hold him?' he asked her.

She hesitated before shaking her head. 'I… better not.'

'Oh. Why?'

'What if I drop him? Or… or he starts crying? Or I drop him?'

Athran laughed. ‘Come on, just for a while. You can sit while you hold him, if you think that will be easier.’ She still looked uncertain, so he said, ‘Look, Dorian’s going back to Tevinter tomorrow and we haven’t had much alone time together. Please just hold Darinel for a little while so I can go and have sex with my husband.’

Cassandra blinked. ‘With your what?’

‘My… husband?’

‘You and Dorian are married.’

Athran frowned in confusion for a few seconds before his eyes widened. ‘Oh, shit, we forgot to tell anyone.’

Cassandra sighed. Athran could tell she was angry but doing her best not to show it. ‘Did you at least think to tell Solas?’

‘Oh, shit,’ Athran said again.

‘Alright,’ Cassandra said, pulling up a chair and sitting down, ‘give me your son. I will watch him while you go and find Solas and tell him.’

‘You’re the best,’ he told her as he handed Darinel to her. She took him, awkwardly trying to figure out the best way to hold him, and then sat completely still and rigid, as if afraid that she might break him if she moved.

Athran chuckled to himself as he walked away to find Solas.

***

When he finally returned, Athran found Cassandra sitting in the exact same position as he left her, but she was now looking down at Darinel with a fond smile on her face. ‘He’s asleep,’ she said, speaking quietly.

‘See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ He reached out his hand to take Darinel back but Cassandra shook her head, wanting to keep holding him. ‘I knew you’d love him.’

‘He’s lovely,’ she said, and then tore her eyes away from Darinel to look at Athran. ‘What did Solas say?’

‘Oh, he already knew. Apparently Fen’Harel has a  _ lot _ of spies.’ He sighed. ‘I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It was a pretty impulsive decision and I guess it just didn’t really occur to us that people wouldn’t know about it.’

‘If I wasn’t holding a sleeping baby in my arms, I would yell at you,’ she told him.

Athran grinned. ‘Next time I do something stupid, I’ll make sure you’re holding Darinel before I tell you about it.’

‘Ugh,’ she said.


End file.
